The Flame
by LaLopez1981
Summary: Avengers AU. Asgardian Prince Thor, on a dare, travels to see the Lost Prince of Jotünheim, a rumored witch, and is unhappy with what he finds. He rescues the Lost Prince, but for his act of disobedience he is sent to a military academy and befriends sharp-tongued genius Tony Stark. On a return visit to Asgard, Tony unknowingly advances on Thor's territory. ThunderFrostIron.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Told you I had more fics in the pipeline! This one is a little out of my comfort zone, so...just go with it! Also, it starts off leaning toward ThunderFrost (yes, I ship it!) but, rest assured, it is a FrostIron fic. (And FYI, I categorized it under Movies/Avengers because it's not really Norse mythology)**

**And just a heads up; I do have another fic, _Fools Rush In_, to begin posting (my Lady Loki/Tony fic), but something wasn't turning out right, so I may not post the first chapter until sometime next week (I'm on vacation, so hopefully I'll get a lot of writing done!).**

**I love reviews and comments, and I am especially requesting feedback on this one because I am so out of my league. And since the Prologue is so short, I'll be posting the first chapter right away. Enjoy!**

**XOXO, LaLa**

* * *

He remembered the moment he first laid eyes on Thor, Son of Odin. Though he was sure it was less a memory of the young man and more a flash of a turning point in his young life that would forever be seared into his memory. Thor just happened to be the cause of it.

Despite the chaos that ensued, he recalled being drawn to the mountainous Asgardian. He looked so different from the natives on the island with his peach-toned skin and long blond hair. At that point he was no longer a boy—the growth of dark blond scruff around his mouth and jaw proved that—though he was not yet a man. There was still an innocence to his eyes that said so.

But then, Loki stood out himself from the inhabitants of the island. He bore the blue pigment, stick-straight raven hair, and crimson eyes of his ancestors—from millennia ago. Added to that, he was smaller, weaker, than the current natives. And he possessed certain abilities, powers that allowed him to change his appearance at his whim. Though the form he was most comfortable in, his natural state since being put in seclusion, had been what the elders deemed an Aesir form. Even then it was not enough to keep him from being isolated since seconds after he was born. He never knew why he adopted that form or even when he first had, but it was the form he was in when Thor Odinson bombarded into his life.

No one, not even he with his abilities, could have predicted how the events of that night would affect them, what it would bring—_who_ it would bring to Loki—and where it would take them. He knew Thor could not have foreseen that things would not go the way he expected them to—initially. Thor could not know of the lessons he would learn about himself through the mistakes he would make and the lives that were put in danger because of them.

Loki would always remember; everything. The night he met Thor, the day he came to Asgard, and the day he met The Genius. He would always remember because how could you forget the feeling of the love of your life slipping away…?


	2. A Mission Worthy of a Prince

Thor and Fandral were not stifling their giggles well enough. Sif was bound to hear them eventually. They just had to hold it in for one more minute. How was Hogun not laughing at all? Did he find nothing humorous? And where in the Hel was Volstagg?

Just as Thor was thinking it, the tall, broad-shouldered young man stepped into the room. He had slicked back his wavy auburn hair and Fandral snickered. Thor elbowed him in the ribs then pulled him back behind the wall they were using as their hiding spot. He pressed a finger to his lips and Fandral nodded, in agreement and apology, and they peeked around the wall again.

Taking slow deliberate steps, so as not to startle Sif, Volstagg approached her. The young dark-haired beauty was busy reading a book on the steps leading to an open balcony in one of the public spaces of the palace. Thor repeatedly and excitedly hit Fandral, seeing that Volstagg was about to complete his mission.

"Good evening, Lady Sif," he said as a greeting. His voice was a deep smooth tenor, deeper than almost all the young men of the court, except for the prince himself. Usually all the wannabe warrior concerned himself with was fight training and feeding the endless pit that was his stomach. He left speaking with the maidens of the court—or to anyone for that matter—to Fandral and Thor. He cursed his friends silently for making him do this.

Sif glanced up from the instructional book of sword fighting and smiled politely. He wasn't the one she wanted to come and sit with her. "Hello, Volstagg. Where is your usual group of ruffians tonight?" She glanced around him toward the separate entrances to the room. Thor and Fandral quickly ducked behind the wall for a few seconds.

Volstagg perched a foot on the step next to Sif's hand, leaning his elbow on his knee. Like he had seen Fandral do once. "Oh, out and about, I'm sure."

Fandral and Thor exchanged pained faces from holding back the laughter. They both recognized the move.

"Oh." Sif smiled politely and lifted her book again.

Volstagg glanced to where he knew his friends were huddled and watching. "Uh, so," he turned back to Sif and, without waiting for permission, sat next to her. "Are you excited for the ball?"

Sif discreetly rolled her eyes before smiling politely again at Volstagg. "Of course I am. Everyone is excited to celebrate the crown prince's birthday."

Volstagg inhaled deeply and prayed for courage. "May I ask you something, milady?"

Giving up on reading, Sif bookmarked her page and closed the book. She set it aside and turned to face Volstagg. "Yes, you may. Mm!"

Just as she turned toward him, Volstagg took his chance and grabbed her by the arms, to keep them in place, and planted his mouth on hers. In his head he counted to five and pulled back. "I'm sorry!" He jumped up and started to flee, narrowly avoiding Sif's fist. He felt the corner of what was probably her book nab him in his lower back. "Run!" He yelled turning the corner his friends were hiding and laughing behind.

Thor peeked again and saw Sif grabbing one of the heavy candlesticks and heading straight for them. "Go, go, go! She is coming!"

All three boys high-tailed it after Volstagg, laughing, hooting, and hollering all the way to Thor's chambers where they had earlier agreed to meet, as Sif's angry voice eventually died out behind them. Out of breath and still laughing, Thor reached for a chalice of the mead Hogun had snuck out of the kitchens earlier as his mission for the night.

Volstagg collapsed on a patch of animal pelts in front of the burning fire. "I know not how I let you goad me into doing these stupid acts, Thor."

Thor smiled widely as Fandral and Hogun shot into the room, slamming the door behind them. "I think we lost her near the throne room," Fandral panted out to Hogun.

"I am your future king, Volstagg. There is nothing you would not do for me." Volstagg only shook his head in response and let himself fall back onto a square pillow.

"Who's next?" Thor asked, swallowing down another cupful.

"You," Hogun answered in his soft, gruff voice.

"Yes. What should we make Thor do?" Fandral stretched out on the floor across from Volstagg while Thor perched himself on the edge of his extremely large and ornately decorated bed.

"There is no mission you could present me with that I would not do," he boasted like the entitled young man he was.

Hogun picked a small branch of grapes and sat at Thor's rarely used desk to pop them into his mouth and tossed a branch with few hanging on it to Volstagg when he raised his hand. "You sound so sure of yourself, prince," he challenged. He glanced at Fandral for an agreement and rolled his eyes. The young blond was admiring himself in the reflection of his own chalice, studying the progress of his first attempt at growing facial hair.

"I am," Thor said, drawing everyone's attention again. "Give me your worst, friends."

"I've got one," Fandral chimed in. He drained his glass and stood to get more. "And I will wager you would not dare attempt this, lest you seek the ire of the Allfather."

Thor frowned and took a bite from a chunk of bread. "If he does not know what I do then I cannot incite his ire, can I?" he asked as he chewed.

"Very well then, your highness." Dramatically, Fandral wandered around the large room, sipping from his cup from time to time.

Thor sighed. "Are you going to tell us of this challenge in this lifetime, good Fandral?"

The blond stopped and faced his friend, the fire roaring being him, giving him a golden aura. "Have you heard the stories of the Lost Prince?"

Hogun and Volstagg's eyes met, wide and unblinking, and the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. Thor, who had been sipping from his chalice, slowly lowered his cup and swallowed.

"The Lost Prince?" he questioned. Fandral nodded. "The one kept locked away in the darkest dungeons of Jotünheim? Do you mean _that_ prince?"

"One and the same," Fandral answered with a smug grin.

Thor looked to Hogun then Volstagg and finally back to Fandral. "I have. What of it?"

Fandral cocked his head. "Do you know why they keep him locked away?"

Thor was not impressed so far and the noise he made in the back of his throat proved so. "Yes. The stories are that he is a witch. That he has walked the Earth for just ten and four years, but his eyes are those of one who has walked a thousand."

Fandral pursed his pink lips. "That's very good, Thor. Though there are other reasons."

"Such as what…?" Volstagg questioned, genuinely curious.

Fandral moved to another part of the large room so he had a clear view of each of his friends—or rather, they had a clear view of him. "Such as…they say that the Lost Prince has the ability to change his form any time he chooses. And that he is one of the most beautiful creatures to ever have graced this world. Aside from me, of course." He slicked a hand over his golden hair, combed just right.

The other three boys laughed derisively. Fandral was affronted—for a moment.

"My perfection aside…" He looked to Thor. "Are you not curious, Son of Odin? The most beautiful creature _in the world_ dwells in one of the many provinces under _your_ kingdom's protection…" He stepped closer to Thor as he spoke. He could tell by the gleam in the young prince's blue eyes that he was intrigued and trying to suppress it. "And you've never seen him? As the future king, do you not have the right to claim him, if you wish?"

Thor frowned at that. "Claim him? For what would I claim him? He would be of no use to me."

"Would he not? If he is indeed a witch, with the power to change into any form he wishes, as they say he can, imagine." Fandral spread a hand through the air. "You could be with a different maid every night. Any shape, size, or hair color you want."

Thor quite liked the idea of that, if he was honest. In fact, it got him a little excited and he had to think of mundane things like his lessons and eating his vegetables to calm himself down again. Technically, he had no claim to anything, not while Odin was alive and well. And Jotünheim was one of the few regions in the kingdom Asgardians were forbidden to travel to without explicit permission from the king.

But how harmful could it be to take a short ride up north, sneak a peek at this supposed beautiful creature, and return home without Odin ever finding out? He was still the prince of the ruling kingdom and that brought with it some privilege, did it not? Even if the stories of the Lost Prince's abilities weren't true, he still had the right to see him if he so wished. And, tonight, he so wished.

Thor straightened and grinned at his friends. "To the horses," he declared.

"Wait a minute!" Volstagg shot up to a sitting position and then his feet. "You cannot be serious, Thor! No matter what the stories are, the Lost Prince is just that: a _story_. He is merely a runt, the black sheep of a family who was ashamed of him and hid him away because of it. He is _not_ a witch or a sorcerer. He is just a boy."

"And he is on the island of Jotünheim."

The three boys' head whipped around to Hogun, stunned that the usually silent one had spoken up.

"The Allfather has forbidden travel to the island except for supplies when needed."

Thor and Fandral exchanged a glance. Thor smiled widely at Volstagg and Hogun. "Then supplies they need. Come, friends!"

* * *

**A/N: Feedback is appreciated! :)**


	3. You Are A Long Way From Home, Asgardian

**A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback! I'm glad this is intriguing people. Like I said, I'm a little out of my element with the more fantastical side of this story, but at the heart-as usual-is a story about relationships. :)**

**Speaking of the fantasy side, to make things a little clearer, in this story Asgard and Jotunheim are on Midgard (obviously, Scandinavia). While Loki has powers, Thor is _not_ the God of Thunder. He does, however, possess Mjolnir and it does have its own special powers. You'll find out, eventually, when Thor goes to the academy, that as much as Jotunheim is an almost backward society compared to Asgard, Asgard itself is behind the times compared to Britain (where Thor is sent).**

**I really hope that makes sense and hopefully you'll all be able to follow along and none of you will abandon this. :/**

**If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask!**

**XOXO, LaLa**

* * *

It was easy to steal out of the castle. Thor's chambers were in one wing of the castle, the king and queen's on the other. They waited until night fell to take the horses from the stables, packed with bags stuffed with blankets and random items from Thor's bedroom, to make it look as if they had supplies, and rode to the northeastern most point of the kingdom.

Thor rode on the last horse and let Fandral and Volstagg try to finesse their way onto the ferry to cross the sea to Jotünheim. If he was recognized the whole mission would be blown and there was no chance of it escaping Odin's attention then. Under the hood of his cloak, Thor breathed a sigh of relief when the guards finally allowed them to pass. They had to leave the horses behind, as animals were not allowed to cross from Asgard to Jotünheim—for reasons Thor was sure he didn't want to know—and unpacked their "cargo" to carry with them.

The four boys quietly chuckled amongst themselves, exhilarated at the fact that, thus far, they were getting away with their little game. Once they got to the shores of Jotünheim, they found a hidden spot to leave the bags and through the shadows, made their way to the center of the village.

"Is that…are they having a celebration?" Fandral asked in undertones from behind Thor, spotting the bustle going on.

"Seems like," the prince answered in the same hushed tone.

* * *

Tribal music and loud voices overlapping came from the center of the village, where small bonfires lit a stretch along the main road where the Jotüns gathered. Thor thought this was just perfect. No one would notice the four shadows creeping on the outskirts to what was left of the old castle.

At one time, Jotünheim was a magnificent province all its own, with a grand monarchy that had ruled for ages, until the lure of more power led them to raiding and pillaging neighboring villages on either side of the island. The armies of Asgard swept in and took over, and Jotünheim was stripped of its royal pedigree, and placed under the watchful eye of the golden kingdom. It fell into disarray, refusing any help from Asgard, becoming a weaker nation by the decade, until it was reduced to a small society of hunters and gatherers. A far regression from what they had once been.

When Laufey, the latest in a long line of disgraced kings of Jotünheim, learned he was to be a father, after years of trying, he placed all of his hopes onto his unborn son, whom he desired would grow to be a great warrior and return Jotünheim to all its glory. He told himself later he should have known he would be disappointed. The winds raged that day, and the snow fell heavier than was normal for that time of year, and when he was led into the birthing room and that tiny bundle was placed into his arms, his rage was as red as the crimson eyes staring up at him. He had shoved the child into a nurse's arms and ran, decreeing that the child be hidden away in the highest tower of the castle and announced to the people of Jotünheim that their salvation had been stillborn. Then the cowardly king fled to the iced mountains towering over the island, where he remained for months.

When he finally returned from his retreat, he learned that the child had powers; he made things move with his mind and conjured shapes and lights over his crib, amusing himself to no end. And he had transformed himself, making his skin a paler, translucent shade, and his eyes from crimson to emerald. How the child knew to do this as just months old, no one, not even the elders, knew. Laufey wouldn't have it, and still, he kept the child locked away.

But servants and guardsmen had loose lips and rumors of a witch-child locked in the tower ran rampant. When pressed, Laufey admitted to a child, a lost orphan, placed at the castle gates in the middle of the night, hideously deformed and thus kept away from society. He never visited the child when he was awake, but he kept a close watch from afar as he grew—as did the king's hatred for him. He lost everything the day that child was born; including his beloved wife. And as he neared adolescence, the vengeful king thought perhaps the attractive young boy could be useful in some capacity—at least, until he could be rid of him.

* * *

"Which tower is it?" Thor asked, looking up at the dark palace looming before the four young men.

Fandral sighed impatiently. He was damned cold! "The _only_ tower there, Thor, that one." He pointed at the tallest point of the castle. It boasted a small balcony and Thor could tell even from this distance a candle burned in the window off to the side of it.

"How am I to get up there? 'Tis so high."

"Can you not use your hammer?" Fandral pointed at Mjölnir, hanging from Thor's belt.

"N-no—I mean, I could, but I've not yet learned to…control…where I land," he explained lamely. He had only just received the weapon as a gift a few months ago and hadn't yet learned how to harness the power of the mighty hammer.

"We brought rope," Hogun offered, proffering the loop of it wrapped around his arm.

"Here." Volstagg took the rope and tied it securely around a heavy piece of rock. "Use it as an anchor," he said, handing it back to Thor. The blond took it, hesitantly, and frowned at his auburn-headed friend. He chuckled. "Throw it over the balcony, pull until it is secure then climb. You've climbed higher points than this, my friend."

Feeling a little unsure, Thor nodded. "Of course I have." He wondered if they could hear the way his heart was racing. "Stand back." He pushed his arm into Fandral and the three took several steps back. Thor whipped the end of the rope tied to the rock, like he would Mjölnir, and threw it up to the balcony. It failed to reach it. He tried twice more before it finally hooked over the edge. He yanked on the rope, hoisting himself up, and lifting his feet from the ground to be sure the rope could hold him.

Once he was sure it would, he started the climb, reminding his friends to keep a look out, and each drew their weapons. It took several minutes for Thor to reach the top of the tower and even longer to haul his heavy body over the edging of the balcony. He looked back down to the spot his friends were waiting anxiously and Fandral waved. He sighed, exasperated, and turned back to the opening leading inside the tower. A dark green velvet curtain flapped in the wind, and careful not to make any sudden movements, Thor reached out his arm, pushing it aside so he could duck inside.

The room was smaller than he expected and sparse, with hardly any furniture. There was a bed, heavily decorated with gem-colored pillows and lush animal pelts and a beautifully woven quilt; a writing tablet with a short stack of paper, two bottles of ink, and a small pile of books; and another small table, littered with tiny pots and bottles, that seemed to Thor quite odd, as he had only known women to possess those kinds of things. It was not a very large space and had but two doorways; one leading to the balcony, and another to what Thor assumed was the rest of the castle, but an entire section of the room was separated by another thick curtain, this time dark blue in color. But there was no sign of the Lost Prince.

Candles burned, flooding the room in light and warmth, in addition to the fire that burned in a small pit built into the corner. Thor stepped further into the room, quietly, and laid a hand on Mjölnir by his hip. His blue eyes scanned the entire space and he was seconds away from leaving and climbing back down the stone building. A soft scrape of cloth against cloth gave him pause and he tensed, his fingers wrapping around the handle of his hammer.

"Who is there?"

Thor whirled around the sound of a soft, young male voice coming from behind the curtain. He lifted Mjölnir from his belt, but could not see anything beyond the curtain or see from where exactly the voice was coming from.

"Who are you?"

He found himself feeling uncomfortable being unable to see who was speaking. He lowered his hammer but kept it firmly in his grip. "I am Thor, son of Odin. I come from Asgard."

"Hmm. You are a long way from home, Asgardian. What brings you so far? Have you come to catch a glimpse of the one they call witch?"

Thor sensed movement, the voice wavering from one end of the room to the other, and his body tensed and followed it as it moved unseen. "Then you _are_ the Lost Prince."

"Hmm," the voice chuckled. "One of my many monikers, I gather."

The prince huffed out a breath, growing more and more frustrated with this game. "Show yourself, witch."

The voice clucked its tongue at him. "That is not my name, Thor of Asgard."

"You will show yourself to your prince." The voice chuckled again, almost seductively, and the sound sent a chill through Thor that was not at all unpleasant. Mortified by that, he frowned hard, his dark blonde brows burrowing over his cobalt blue eyes. "You would laugh at your king?"

"_You_ are not yet my king."

Unused to such insubordinate behavior, Thor clenched his jaw, his fingers tightened around the handle of Mjölnir. "Show yourself. I will not ask again."

The voice only chuckled once more. "So forceful, _my_ liege."

He growled in aggravation, a grumble from deep in his chest. "If you do not come forward, I will come in there after you."

"Calm yourself, Asgardian." The curtain was swept up and the voice's figure stepped out, showing a bit more skin than Thor was expecting to see. A long loincloth covered the front and backs of his long legs, but exposed the side of smooth calves and thighs; a loose green fur-trimmed wrap hung loosely over his shoulders, opened at the front, revealing a smooth, flawless pale chest; his hair hung in one long thick jet black braid over one shoulder, looser strands framing his face. And he was barefoot, a set of gold bangles dangling from each ankle.

Thor relaxed only minutely, surprised at the boy's height. He himself was six foot four and the young Jotün stood eye level with his chest. And his face…his features were so soft, so…feminine, with his high cheekbones and nearly red lips. He swallowed, a strange sensation making his skin tingle. He blinked, coming out of his trance when the Jotün angled his head.

"Am I to your liking?" His voice was suddenly deeper.

He jerked a little at being caught, before raising his chin. "I know not of what you infer."

The boy's lips twitched slightly, but he said nothing. "You have seen me. Was that not what you wanted?"

"Yes."

A slim black brow rose high above a glittering green eye. "Was there something else you wanted? Have you perhaps heard other…tales of my existence?"

Thor scowled, took one step forward. "You do not look like a witch…"

Both brows drew together now, but his red lips curved into a smirk. "Are there many witches on Asgard?" Thor shook his head. "Then, pray, what is a witch supposed to look like, Thor, son of Odin?"

"Not… Not like you. Are they not supposed to be old hags with wrinkles and warts? You are…" he struggled for a moment, words not being one of his strong points. "Breathtaking," he finished breathlessly.

Something gleamed in those big green eyes and the Jotün moved toward the bed. Thor followed his every movement with his heavy gaze. "So you have come to lay more than just your eyes on me. Haven't you, prince?"

Embarrassment tinged the prince's cheeks bright red. It melted into indignation when the Jotün turned his head away, holding back a laugh and a smile as he lowered to the bed, laying back on his elbows so the wrap fell open, exposing more skin.

"You may have the beard growth of a man, but your reactions give you away. You are still quite the innocent."

Thor was ready to rage at his traitorous words and he hefted Mjölnir up, spinning it once in his deft hand, pausing only when a small, but long-fingered hand lifted.

"Fret not, your highness. You would not be the first sent to my chambers."

The prince's handsome features pinched into a frown of confusion, distraction, and he lowered the hammer once more. "What…? I have not come to—" He whipped around, facing the point of his entry. From outside, a shout was heard and the distant clash of swords.

"What is that?"

Fandral's voice, distant and tinny, called to Thor. "_We must leave at once!_"

Thor looked at the Jotün again, who had clutched his wrap closed to his chest, still disturbed by what he thought Thor's intentions were. The young boy must have realized there was something wrong and bolted to his feet.

"You were not sent here by Laufey, were you?"

Thor's eyes went wide momentarily as the Jotün threw his hands out to his sides, a bright green hue sparking around his thin fingers. His fear began to rise, afraid of what the witch could do to harm him, and tossed up Mjölnir, catching it and shifting to a defensive stance.

"_THOR!_" This time it was Volstagg's voice carrying up to the tower.

Eyes bright and focused on Thor, both males turned their eyes to the entrance to the boy's chamber from the interior of the castle as the clamber of the Jotün warriors was heard coming closer. Thor hastily closed the distance between them.

"I did not come here to hurt you, wit—prince. Not in any way."

The Jotün prince calmed himself, glancing at his door once more. Huffing out a sharp breath, he pressed a hand to Thor's chest, giving him as hard a shove as he could and impulsively threw a ball of green light at the handle of the door, locking it and melting the lock. "Go," he said looking back at Thor.

"What?"

"I have bought you time. Go." He moved forward, pressing both hands to his chest now. "They will kill you. I am not to be seen by anyone not of Jotün blood, unless my father sends them."

"Your father—"

"Go!" The Jotün pushed him again, all the way to the balcony where a full-fledged battle had erupted. "Save yourself, Asgardian!" The black braid swung around him, nearly hitting Thor, as his head whipped around to the door. It was being pounded on now and an axe had been brought, breaking through the heavy oak of the door.

Thor hastily swung a leg over the balcony rail then suddenly stopped and grabbed the Jotün's wrist, tugging him closer. "Come with me."

He gasped, his eyes shooting from the heavy hand wrapped around his thin wrist and the noises at his door, repeatedly. "I—I cannot."

"You are not safe here. I can give you sanctuary. In Asgard."

The wind whipped the strands of hair framing his face into his eyes and mouth and he shook his head, fruitlessly trying to free himself from Thor's grasp. He looked frightened with all the chaos going on around him. "Thor," he started, his voice calm, belying his demeanor. "You know not of what you speak. Now go, before I push you off my balcony!" He shoved at his shoulder, but Thor was much heavier and he barely budged.

Thor tugged him closer, ignoring the shouts of his friends below. The Jotün gasped again and Thor suspected it was from the sudden closeness between them that was making his own heart race. "What is your name?" he asked in a husky whisper.

He released a shaky breath in a puff of white that immediately disappeared. "I…I am Loki, son of Laufey."

Thor's grip eased, moving to grip and squeeze Loki's fingers. "I will return for you, Loki. I give you my word."

"N—" Before he could finish, Thor leapt from the balcony just as the Jotün warriors burst into his chambers. He gasped and leaned over the railing, only to see Thor land competently on his fists and one knee. The Asgardian prince looked back up to the balcony, spotted Loki, and winked.

"Thor, behind you!"

Thor pulled to his full height at Volstagg's shout, gripping Mjölnir, and swung the hammer around with all his might, knocking the Jotün warrior approaching back a few hundred feet. He cackled loudly as he entered the fray with his brothers-in-arms. He took a hit to the chest with the blunt end of a spear and knocked the warrior off of his feet. "At least make it a challenge for me!"

"Thor, we must head back to the bridge!"

"There are more coming for us," Fandral yelled, using his best sword-fighting skills against a much larger warrior. "Let us go now!"

Thor continued to fight the onslaught of warriors, making his way further away from the castle, and heard a shout that sounded from the balcony. He stopped and ran back toward the tower. "Loki!"

He heard Fandral shout out in pain and turned, seeing he had been stabbed through the shoulder with a spear. Hogun was there immediately to take the warrior down and with Volstagg's help he pulled the spear from him.

"Thor, we must go!" Hogun yelled at him before pulling his mace from a dead Jotün's body. Volstagg hauled Fandral over his shoulder, and with Hogun leading the way, they started back straight through the village.

Arrows began to shoot down from Loki's balcony, and dodging them, Thor turned and ran to follow his friends.


	4. Return to Jotünheim

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the positive feedback! Keep it coming! :)**

**XOXO, LaLa**

* * *

Thor had been sitting before Odin, listening as the king bellowed and berated him for nearly an hour, lecturing him on his responsibilities as the crowned prince and how he should be setting an example for his friends, his fellow court members and others across the realm. It was a speech he had heard many times before and he sensed himself drifting off. He had to shake himself awake more than once.

By the time Thor and the others made it back to the bridge to Asgard, Odin had already been alerted to the conflict on Jotünheim. And he was waiting for them atop his mighty black steed on Asgard's coast. Thor had, at first, cursed himself for getting caught, but then he welcomed the confrontation he knew was imminent with Odin; he wanted to alert the king of what else was happening on Jotünheim.

Odin had first ordered Fandral, who by this point had passed out from the pain, to be taken to the healers to have them look at his shoulder. Then he had Hogun and Volstagg escorted home by some of his guardsmen, with instructions to appear before the king the next day with their fathers. Two more guards followed closely behind him and Thor as they rode back to the castle. The two of them were finally left alone in one of Odin's private rooms and he had been waiting ever since to get his chance to speak.

"Thor!"

He jumped in his chair and his eyes shot up to Odin. "Yes, father?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, father. I understand I made a mistake—"

"A mistake?" Odin growled the question through his teeth, peering down angrily at his only son through one blazing blue eye. "What you've done could start a war!"

"A war we could easily defend ourselves in. They fight with spears," Thor scoffed. "They can be easily defeated by our armies. The four of us took down at least a hundred soldiers in hardly any time. It would take but a day."

"That is not the point!" Odin roared, leaning over Thor, gripping the arms of the chair he sat in. "You have committed an act of treason, knowingly disobeying one of the most sacred of laws in Asgard. In older times, under harsher kings, you would be put to death for your actions, without a second thought."

Odin pushed away from the chair, turning his back to Thor, who wisely kept his eyes lowered to the floor, ashamed of himself for not knowing better. He often found himself in Odin's wrath because he could not control his need for boasting of his fighting prowess or to prove his worthiness—to his friends and to his father. His mouth fell open at Odin's revelation. "What…what will _your_ punishment be for me, father?"

Odin paced the small area, pausing to briefly glance at Thor, before continuing his slow trek. "I've not decided yet." He stopped, standing near the fire that kept the room in comfortable warmth, rubbing a hand over his face with a weary sigh. "Leave me," he murmured into the tense quiet.

Thor was surprised at the dismissal. He had expected the lecture to go on for some time. Confused and unsure, he didn't move. "Father…?"

"Leave!" The king shouted, whipping around faster than either of them expected him to. "I need to contemplate your punishment and that of your foolish friends. And, frankly, I cannot stand the sight of you right now. Your behavior is embarrassing, Thor. How can I expect an entire kingdom to hold me in high regard and observe my laws when I cannot control the actions of my own son?"

Thor's face pinched into a hard frown and he shifted forward on the seat, his hands on the arms ready to push up. "They should not expect you to control me at all. I am my own man."

"But you are not a man!" Odin's harsh words had Thor slumping a little in his chair. "Not yet."

Thor dropped his gaze again, fighting the hurt making his chest ache and his eyes sting with tears. "Father," he began softly. "I understand I have upset you greatly. And I am sorry. But," he stood now, and cautiously approached his father. "I must speak with you of what I saw."

Odin sighed shortly, resting an arm across the mantle over the fire. "What you saw?" he repeated, the exhaustion apparent even in his gruff voice. "Is it very important that I must hear it now? Can it not wait until we have both rested?"

Thor almost gave in to that tired, weathered face. But he was afraid if he didn't tell Odin now, he would not get another chance. "It is important to the son of Laufey."

Odin blinked and raised his head, straightening and lowering his arm to his side again. "Son of…? Thor, you must be mistaken. Laufey has no son, no offspring to speak of. His only child was stillborn."

Thor's chest puffed a little, proud and still a little excited that he was the one bringing this news to his father. "I am afraid, father, that you have been misled. By Laufey himself. For I have seen with mine own eye, the son of Laufey."

Odin, confusion and surprise written across his face, stared at him silently for a long moment. So long, Thor wondered if he understood at all. "How old is he?" he finally asked.

Thor hesitated. It was not a question he expected, not the first, at least, and he was unsure what answer to give. The Jotün prince's body language, demeanor, even his words, spoke of someone who had lived and seen much, but Thor knew he was not far out of childhood. "Young. But, father…"

"Is this why you went to the island?" Odin's voice had returned to its earlier sharpness. "To see _him_?"

Thor shifted awkwardly, his fingers playing with the material of his riding pants. "There are stories…"

"Yes. That he is a witch, that he can change forms. That he is the son of Laufey. Thor, I do not have time for these childish whims of yours." Odin started away, toward the door leading to his private chambers.

"Father, Laufey is doing something to him," Thor rushed to say to keep him from leaving. The king paused and looked to him again, his brow furrowed. A slight narrowing of his eye told Thor to continue. "He keeps him locked away in the sole tower of the castle and…sends men in to…see him."

Odin's frown deepened and he turned to fully face him again. "Are you sure of this?" Thor nodded. "How?"

Thor's face reddened and he brought his hands together in front of him, wishing he had Mjölnir to hold. But it was taken from him when he arrived back on the island. And he didn't know when he would get it back. "He believed I had been sent by Laufey to…" The flush flamed anew, this time covering his entire body. "To _be_ with him."

The king brought a hand to his face, stroking his bearded chin in thought as he moved forward again, starting another slow pacing path. "Then the stories are true…" he murmured.

Thor assumed by the quietness of his voice that Odin was speaking to himself, but he responded anyway. "What stories, father?"

Odin stopped and looked at him, almost surprised, as if he forgot Thor was in the room. "Stories of the Jotün run as far back as when your grandfather's grandfather walked the Earth as a young man, Thor. Some were so fantastical, one didn't know what was truth and what was fact." He went silent, looking away, and Thor waited, expecting more.

"And…?" he urged after another beat.

Odin shook his head. "I know not if I should continue. Not until I know for sure myself what has transpired on that island." He straightened again, clasping his hands together behind his back. "Tomorrow, after I speak with your friends' fathers, you and I shall ride to Jotünheim to speak with Laufey."

Thor's grin spread before he could stop himself. That was _exactly_ what he wanted. To confront the disgraced king and to bring Loki back to Asgard where he would be safe. Like he had promised he would. Odin was not as pleased.

"Wipe that smile from your face, boy!" Thor did so, jolting again at Odin's shout. "This is not a joyride; you will stand before Laufey and apologize. You will hang your head and do everything in your meager power to stop any and all retaliation for your intrusion the Jotün may have in mind. Am I clear?"

Thor had lowered his head once more during Odin's tirade, and kept his eyes down still. "Yes, father. I understand."

"Good. Now, leave me. Clearly, I have quite a busy day ahead of me tomorrow and I need my rest."

His head still down, Thor exited the king's room. Once outside in the hall—though his mother had always warned him not to do so—the prince ran in a sprint clear across the castle from their wing to his. The moment he entered his own chambers, his smile spread from ear to ear. Excited for what the next day would bring, Thor quickly stripped himself of his soiled clothes, leaving them for someone else to pick up and tend to, and climbed into bed. The last thing on his mind, before he drifted off to sleep, was Loki.

* * *

This was the worst day of his existence.

His friends would never speak to him again, he knew it. And even if they wanted to, their parents likely would not allow them to. Fandral told him not to worry, that none of them blamed him for their punishment. Of course, he was literally being dragged from the main hall by his collar, by his father's hand at the time. So how could Thor _not_ blame himself?

Odin had really laid down the law. The king banned Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral from participating in any and all court activities for one full year. He cancelled Thor's big birthday celebration, even after Frigga explained that all the preparations and planning were nearly done. Any further punishment was left up to the boys' parents. As for Thor…

Odin publicly announced that Thor's punishment, along with traveling to Jotünheim to personally apologize to Laufey, would be to attend a military academy of Odin's choice. The king's hope, he had said, was that Thor would learn discipline and perhaps grow into the kind of man Asgard needed him to be when he eventually took the throne.

Odin had not forewarned his queen of this decision, if her reaction was any indication. Frigga openly sobbed at her husband's announcement and had to have her handmaiden escort her back to her room before she started arguing with him in front of the entire court.

Thor…well, Thor was heartbroken. Not about the cancelled feast. He was a prince; there would be many of those in his future. He knew Odin was angry with him, but he had not realized he was so angry he was willing to send him away from everything he knew and loved. He understood he had only himself to blame, but since he had pulled stunts like this before, and received a mere warning or a light scolding, he had expected the same this time.

They were on their horses now, on their way to Jotünheim with a handful of guards. Thor had been quiet since Odin's announcement and barely looked his father in the eye when they started out. A part of him was happy that the weather quite reflected his brooding mood; dark, ominous clouds had rolled in, full and threatening to pour down upon them. Thunder rolled, sounding farther off than he expected.

"Are you going to be like this the entire ride?" Odin asked, his horse trotting up beside Thor's. Pouting like a sore child, Thor slid a brief glance his father's way.

"You could have told me in private," he grumbled.

Odin laughed once, short and almost sarcastically, Thor thought. "What good would that have done? The news would have spread through the kingdom like wildfire and I only decided that would be your fate while breaking my fast this morning."

Thor looked away, shaking his head. "Have you chosen a place to ship me off to yet?"

Odin let out a long breath. "I am not shipping you off, Thor. There are things you need to learn that you are, quite obviously, not learning here. I can only do so much. The place I have in mind will not only teach you to be a better man, but a fiercer warrior."

"I _am_ a fierce warrior!" Thor roared, his frustration reaching its peak.

"No!" Odin's voice echoed through the clearing, and flocks of birds fled their havens in the trees. "You play at games, Thor! In a real war, it is about life and death and survival. Do you expect other men, men who have seen the harsher side of life, to fall at your feet just because you are the son of Odin? You live in a fantasy world if you do."

"Of course, I do not, father." He blinked fiercely at the tears blurring his vision. He did not want to leave Asgard. Asgard was his home; the only home he had ever known. He did not want to leave his mother, his friends…the maidens. "But I…"

"What?" Odin pushed for an answer. "_What?_"

"I do not know!" Thor finally yelled, twisting on his horse to look at his father. A sob slipped through and he felt his face burn with embarrassment.

Odin nodded. "Exactly, my son." He turned away, his jaw set firmly. "Exactly. Now, clear your face. It would not do to present you to Laufey while you're blubbering like a virgin on her marriage night." With that, Odin pushed his heels into his steed's flanks and trotted to the head of the line.

Thor eyes followed Odin until he disappeared from his vision. Using his sleeve, he wiped at his face, sniffling as quietly as he could. Moments later they reached the bridge to cross to Jotünheim and Thor brought his horse to stop, ready to dismount.

"Thor. Come ride on the first ferry with me," Odin called as he stepped into the waiting raft.

Thor sighed, glad the tears finally stopped and fixed his red flowing cape about his throat. He heard a murmur behind him, thought one of the guards called him a princess, and shot them both a look. One smiled, the other gave him a short nod, and with a defiant lift of his chin, Thor walked away.

He remained silent on the journey across the sea and as they started the walk to the rundown castle. Odin chatted graciously with one of his guardsmen, asking after his wife and newborn son. Once they reached the center of the village, the Jotüns began to emerge from their homes, lining along the main path, watching in awe as the king of Asgard proudly strolled his way through their village.

In the light of day, Thor understood better just how different Loki was from his people. Aside from the few children he saw, who themselves were more than half his own height already, the majority of the Jotüns were built extremely tall and muscular, towering over him by nearly a foot.

As they neared the doors to the entrance of the run-down castle, Odin sent a guard ahead to pry open the doors for them. The small group stopped, waiting for the guard to do so. Thor hadn't noticed the night before just how dilapidated the castle was. Plant growth covered the lower part of the walls; dark marks from the near-constant precipitation during every season on Jotünheim stained various parts of the stone. His blue eyes travelled toward the lone tower of the castle, to the window where a dark green curtain once wafted in the icy wind. It was bare now and Thor wondered what that meant for Loki.

"Is that your doing?" Odin questioned, looking pointedly at the spot where Thor and the others had scuffled with the Jotün warriors. He knew it was the place because the grass was stained with blood, bushes and even a tree had been laid to waste, and several bodies lay dead and untouched from where they landed.

Thor stared in shock. _Do the Jotün not bury their dead?_ he wondered. He met Odin's cycloptic gaze when he turned to him and nodded solemnly. The guard finally got the heavy doors open and Odin motioned for him to move forward. A lump in his throat, Thor obeyed and followed the guard, past the two staircases and into the main entrance hall, with Odin close behind him.

The inside of the castle was not much better than the outside. What was likely once grand tapestries and curtains and carpets, now hung loosely in rags, or rolled up in a corner, moth-eaten and dusty from years of misuse. It was dark and damp and Thor wondered if the castle was even livable.

"Allfather."

The small band of Asgardians stopped and turned toward the deep voice, coming from behind them. Thor could feel his heart racing and instinctively reached down for Mjölnir, grunting softly when he remembered it was no longer in his possession.

"Laufey," Odin uttered by way of a greeting. With subtle hand signals, Odin instructed the guards and Thor to follow as he moved toward a door in the corner.

"You look weary." Laufey's smile was sinister as they moved into an empty circular room with just one chair at the back of it, where Laufey had moved to sit. "First the crowned prince, and now the king of Asgard! Our tiny island is certainly popular these days."

Odin stepped to the middle of the room, Thor staying behind with his guards. He realized they had moved into strategic positions around Odin and him, and belatedly noticed the extremely large Jotün warriors who had joined them in the room as well. "Thor has something to say to you, Laufey. Son."

Thor took a few steps forward, his head down, and glared at Laufey. Loki must resemble his mother, for he looked nothing like the man before him. He was big, yes, but he was old; the pressures of being a leader, even a poor one, had taken its toll on his face. Even his body looked weathered and beaten, as he sat hunched in his once grand chair.

"Thor."

He angled his head slightly, acknowledging his father briefly, and returned his hard gaze to Laufey. He cleared his throat and prepared himself to repeat the words Odin had provided for him. "Laufey, of Jotünheim, I, Thor, son of Odin, offer my sincerest apologies for the intrusion of your island, the destruction of your property, and the senseless loss of your warriors."

Laufey's dark, bleary eyes centered on Thor through his speech then shifted almost lazily to Odin. "Your son is a remarkable puppet, king."

Thor nearly lunged forward, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. "However you may take them, Laufey, Thor meant his words," Odin said.

"Your boy broke your law. And he took down several of my fiercest men. Those are actions of war, Your Grace. You know this."

"They were the actions of a boy and you should take them as such." Beside him Thor quietly fumed. "Let us settle this as men of honor. You do not want to sacrifice anymore of your men; I would rather not engage the best of mine in a senseless war."

"Men of honor?" Laufey sneered. "What honor have I left? You took my kingdom from me."

"My forefathers took your kingdom from yours. And you know well, why it was done." Odin curled his hand around Thor's elbow and pulled him back. His time to speak was done; the discussion was now between the two men.

"Then give me my kingdom back!" Laufey shouted and jumped to his full, intimidating height. Odin's guardsmen immediately moved to take defensive stances, standing down at the wave of his hand. "It has been long enough."

"Has it?" was Odin's only response.

Laufey stepped down from the chair, but did not approach Odin just yet. "You have seen my land, Allfather! My people live like savages because of what _you_ have taken from them."

"They live like savages because they have behaved as savages for many millennia," Odin answered calmly. "I have taken nothing from them; I only follow the precedent set by my ancestors."

"Then be _different_, Allfather." Laufey slowly took the steps to close the distance between him and Odin. "Return my kingdom to me. Let us flourish again." He stood before the king now, towering over him, his eyes never wavering from Odin's.

The king seemed to think it over. "Even if I did return your realm to you, how can I be sure you will not attempt to take over other lands as previous Jotün kings have?"

"I am not interested in _other_ lands. Just my own."

Odin started to speak again when Thor pulled his attention and when he looked to him, waved him over. The king stepped over to his son with a very impatient look. "What, Thor?"

"Are you going to ask him about Loki?" he whispered. Odin gave him a look he couldn't comprehend and turned back to Laufey.

"Laufey, before I consider this…tell me," he wandered back to the larger man, lifting his head to look his face. "Who is Loki?"

Thor's grin barely curved his lips, but by the rage swirling in Laufey's eyes when he turned a fierce gaze on him, he knew the disgraced king saw it.

"What concern is that of yours?" he answered.

Odin's lips twitched. "I am still the ruling king in these realms. _Everything_ is of my concern." Laufey's jaw clenched.

"You are so concerned, take him with you, on one condition." Odin nodded for him to continue. "You give me back my kingdom."

Odin's arm shot out, stopping Thor as he stepped forward, and eyed Laufey, his brows drawn deeply over his sole functioning eye. "You would sacrifice your flesh and blood for a _kingdom_?"

Laufey made a very unsatisfactory face. "He may be of my blood, but he is not of my flesh. He is a burden, a curse on this house, on this land. Take him with you and do as you wish with him."

"Father—"

"Silence." Odin's voice echoed in the empty room and Thor huffed angrily. He wanted to scream at his father to take the bargain, and get Loki as far from this monster as they could. Odin turned his attention back to Laufey, studying the giant man before him. "Do I have your word you will not wage any wars on Asgard or any other lands under my jurisdiction? Thor is right; we will defeat you easily."

Laufey snarled quietly. "You have my word, Allfather."

"Then I accept your bargain. You will be reinstated as king of Jotünheim. And I will take Loki under my protection."

The larger man nodded once then turned to one of his guards. "Bring the boy."

Thor's heart was racing. He was disgusted with this man, so willing to give up his own child to rule a land that wasn't worth much use to anyone, particularly the people that inhabited it. But he was elated that Odin agreed to take Loki and he nearly trembled with anticipation waiting to see him again. He turned toward the entrance when he heard the unmistakable clink of chains.

His heart nearly stopped at the sight.

The guard, towering over the tiny figure next to him, in comparison, dragged Loki in by the arm and shoved him toward Odin. Because Thor was closer, he was able to catch him before he fell to the floor, and cupped his face carefully in his hands, staring in shock at the bruises coloring and swelling one side of his face. Whip lines marked his back and legs, bared for everyone to see, as Loki had been stripped down to a small loincloth.

"Father…!"

"What have you done to him, Laufey?" Even the king himself sounded appalled.

"Nothing he didn't deserve," Laufey commented bitterly.

"Loki…" Thor whispered, his hands moving to hold him up by the arms. "Are you all right?"

Loki lifted his face and peered up at Thor with one swollen eye, the other watery and barely opened, as well. "Asgardian…" he said with a small semblance of a smile. "I didn't expect…to…mnh…" Thor gasped as Loki fainted in his arms and lifted him fully into his arms.

"Thor, get to the ferry immediately, and ride to the palace. Get him to the healers as fast as you can. I will soon follow. Guards." He motioned with his chin for them to follow.

"Yes, father." Thor rushed from the castle, wishing he had Mjölnir to make the trip quicker. When they finally crossed the river, and he had Loki secured across his lap, against his chest, and atop his horse, he rode faster than he had ever ridden before.


	5. Tea and Nightmares

**A/N: First awesome A/N lost because Google Chrome fucked me over...**

**I believe I said thank you to you all for reading my story. I have been overwhelmed and surprised by the love this fic is getting. So keep it coming cuz it makes me want to write more! I was shocked because it has more views than my finale in the Picture Perfect series!**

**Anyhoo, enjoy!**

**XOXO, LaLa**

* * *

When Loki woke, in a strange white room, in a strange small bed, wearing strange white clothes, and his body aching from head to toe, his first instinct was to remain perfectly still, hoping he would not draw any attention to himself. But the moment he opened his eyes, blinking against the bright light coming through the linen-covered windows, a man in a white robe was there at his bedside, pressing a hand to Loki's forehead, and two fingers to the inside of his wrist. He reached the hand from his wrist out toward Loki's chest and the adolescent went berserk.

A short blast of magic shot out from Loki's hand, hitting the man square in the chest, and he scrambled up to the head of the bed, his fingers wrapping around and clutching the bars of the headboard. More people rushed in and Loki searched their faces, desperate to find one that he might have known. But there were none.

He shot out more magic from his fingers—it would not harm any of them, but it would make them think twice about coming near him again. Unfortunately, as was usually the case, Loki was eventually overpowered by someone who was bigger and stronger than him. He cried and screamed, and kicked out his skinny legs, though he knew well that it would only lead to further punishment, and he struggled against the hands forcing him back down to the bed.

He hated that dark tower in which he had spent every moment of his life, but it was his home and it was comfortable, and he very much wished he was there right now. He even pleaded to be taken back, promising to comply if they would just take him back.

He heard a voice—deep and familiar—and with a surge of sudden strength, Loki bolted up in the bed, his green eyes searching for the source of that voice. He saw him, big and loud, and angry, Loki thought. He smiled a little, flooded with relief that not everything surrounding him in the foreign place was unfamiliar.

Then something was placed over his nose and mouth and everything went black again.

* * *

The next time he woke, Loki was in a different room. He knew it was still not his own room, but it was less bright and he was in a different bed this time. It was larger, softer, and warm. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the dimness and sat up, so many questions going through his mind.

Where was he? Why had he been brought here? What tortuous situation had Laufey put him in now?

The last thing he remembered clearly before waking in the bright white room was being taken from his tower after the Asgardian had barged in. The guards caught him on the balcony, looking after the big, blond young man who had just jumped from it, and believed he was trying to escape. And they told Laufey as much when they brought him to face his father.

Things were a bit of a blur after that. He remembered being taken down to the dungeons, dragged there by his hair, and having his arms and legs chained to a wall. From what he could gather from past experiences, and remembering how his body ached that brief moment he was awake, Laufey had probably had him beaten and whipped to near death for his perceived insolence.

Thankfully, his body had, by now, mostly healed from his magic, but still he felt a little sore crawling to the foot of the bed, as quietly as he could, and parted the curtain surrounding the large piece of furniture just enough to peek out through one eye. All he could see was a table and two chairs.

"You've wakened!" Loki gasped and skittered back when the curtain was shoved aside. "Oh! Dear, I'm so sorry…I had not meant to frighten you."

Loki stared at the pretty blonde woman, standing by the bed in the most beautiful gown he had ever seen. She was not young, nor was she old, and her blue eyes—shining, smiling, and peering down intently at him—reminded him of someone. "I am not frightened."

"Oh." She nodded once, bringing her hands together in front of her, smiling primly at him. "Of course you're not. Will you join me for some tea?" She shifted, moving to the side and holding out her arm in invitation.

Loki looked beyond her, to where she was pointing, as a young servant girl stepped away from the table he had seen before. A tea service had been placed atop it. He looked back at her and frowned a little. "Who are you?"

She let out a soft, feminine laugh. "My sincere apologies, Loki! How rude of me. I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard."

"Queen of…?" Loki's eyes shot around the room and he jumped from the bed, rushing to one of the windows, throwing aside the sheer curtain. Outside his window was not the gloomy, run-down village under an overcast, snow-threatening sky that usually greeted him, but a gleaming, golden city that stretched for miles to a glistening body of blue-green water. "Where…where am I?"

"You are in Asgard," Frigga answered from behind him.

He turned to face her, noticing for the first time the fact that he was covered from neck to ankles in very loose clothing, all white, like those people he had seen before. It was the most clothing he had ever worn in his young life.

"Would you care to change into something that fits better?" She must have seen his confusion. She turned and opened a drawer in the chest he had not noticed before, set against the wall. She brought him two items of clothing, one green and one black, folded neatly in her arms, and set them in his. "Thor mentioned that green seemed to be your color of choice. There is room, a closet, just through that door you may use. It leads to your washroom. I will wait here for you."

Loki looked at the door, a worried expression creasing the smooth features of his young face. He was so lost, so confused. He took one step before looking back at Frigga. "How much did you pay for me?" Loki bit into his lip when the queen's face melted from the sweet smile to a horrified visage. She seemed to realize this and quickly composed herself.

"Why don't you change and we shall discuss everything over tea?" Without waiting for him to agree, Frigga turned him by his thin shoulders and urged him forward until he was in the room, and closed the door, leaving him alone.

* * *

Loki reentered the room with the oversized bed, almost hoping the time he wasted in the changing room, purposely, would have discouraged a long conversation—or any at all. But Frigga was still there, looking so pretty and regal in her chair, in the middle of the room.

The women of Jotünheim, few that he had seen, looked nothing like her. She was beautiful. He imagined all that shiny blonde hair pinned and coiled in a complicated design atop her head flowed down to her waist. He realized by now why her eyes were so familiar; Thor took after his mother in many respects: the eyes, the hair, and as far as he had been able to tell, her gentleness.

"Do you like tea?" she asked quietly, breaking into his thoughts. Loki nodded and joined her at the table. He watched her pour the light brown liquid, declining any offer of milk, sugar, or honey, and took the cup and saucer when she offered it, but did not yet drink.

"Who am I to be given to—your husband or your son?" Loki brought the cup to his lips, paying no mind to the way Frigga froze. "Or am I intended for _you_?" he added quietly before sipping.

She made a sound, somewhere between a shocked gasp and disgusted scoff, and set down the bowl of sugar with a bit of a snap. "You were not purchased for anyone, Loki. You were not _purchased_." She sighed, as if to calm herself.

"Why was I brought here?" He set the tea aside, not really in the mood for it.

"You are now under the protection of Odin Allfather."

Loki's head whipped around and his thin black brows came together. "What…then why was I brought _here_?" He saw the confusion swimming in those kind blue eyes. "Why am I not in the servants' quarters?"

Frigga's face softened. "Loki…we have not brought you to Asgard to serve. You have nothing to fear whilst here."

He pressed his hands to his face, before smoothing them over his silky black hair, still in a messy braid, doing his best to control his breathing. "What was my price?"

She sighed again, shortly. "Loki. I told you; you were not purchased."

"Then I have much to fear," he said firmly, turning to face her. "Laufey gives nothing to anyone for free. Not even the king of Asgard. There is always a scheme behind his actions. Whatever he may have told you or Odin, cannot be believed or trusted."

Frigga listened patiently as he spoke, and once he finished, she reached over to take his hand between hers. "You were not given to us, Loki," she started softly. "You were…traded."

Something ached in his chest, but he showed nothing on his face as he watched hers. "And for what was I traded?"

She swallowed, looking away, and squeezed his hand before meeting his gaze once more. "Laufey offered you in exchange for the rights to his kingdom."

Loki inhaled sharply, the breath getting caught in his throat. He pulled his hand from her grasp and stood, moving to the window again. Traded away like property… But that _is_ all he ever was to Laufey—a burden to be rid of eventually. Loki had always expected it; just not this soon. "What is to be done with me?"

He heard her move, the swish of her skirts, and when she spoke her voice was closer. "For now…nothing. You will remain here, in the palace, until Odin has decided what your fate will be."

Loki breathed out a quiet laugh, lowering his chin and shaking his head. "I merely went from one owner to another," he murmured mostly to himself. Because Frigga did not respond, he assumed she had not heard him. "What is expected of me?" he asked, his voice rising a little higher.

"We expect nothing of you, Loki. We only wish to give you a chance at a life you _want_ to lead."

"Why did _you_ come?" He asked the question, looking at her from over his shoulder. "Why did Odin himself not come to speak with me?" He turned fully, a wry grin playing around his lips as he stepped closer to the table again. "Were you to ask the questions he himself is too embarrassed to ask?"

Frigga barely suppressed a chuckle, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling any wider. "You're very clever, Loki."

"I've been told…" He flicked his eyes to the side, grinning just a little brighter.

"Odin wants you to feel comfortable here. Eventually, he would like for you to begin taking courses with the palace tutors. He wants you to have an education."

"An education?" Loki's voice had risen, cracking a little, and blinked rapidly. "What am I to do with an education?"

"Anything you want," she answered with a smile. Loki sighed and sat, setting an elbow on the table and placing a palm over his face. "Have you had any schooling?"

"No." He dropped his hand and glared at her with glistening green eyes. "I was locked up in a tower alone my entire life. I never even saw the faces of the servants who brought me food. Laufey hid me away to be seen only by those who paid the right price. _That_ is why I am not safe here or anywhere in your realm. Laufey will come for me. When he remembers that it is _I_ who brings in the food and materials that his people need, he will come for me. And whatever agreement you have made with him will mean nothing!"

"No, Loki." Frigga was not deterred, her voice strong and resolved. "That is not something we will allow to happen."

He sighed almost painfully. "Do you not understand, Your Majesty? Nothing you or the king or your stubborn son can do will stop him. He is brutal, cruel, and will do anything in his power to help his people, no matter the cost. He is a _monster_," he whispered viciously.

Loki's breathed hitched and he looked away from Frigga, feeling his face burn hot. Fear rose within him with every passing second, and he half-expected Laufey and his Jotün warriors to break through the door at any moment and whisk him back to that dark and dingy tower. He did not want to think what his punishment would be if that did happen.

Vaguely, he could hear Frigga calling to him, but he couldn't move. A shadow crossed his vision; soft hands were on his arms then his face. "Loki? Are you all right?"

He blinked and focused on Frigga's face. "Yes…yes, I am fine." He took her hands from his face, lowering his head again. "You should not have brought me here. You have put your kingdom in danger."

She squeezed his hands and said, "I will not let anything happen to you."

He paused before lifting his emerald eyes to her azure ones, surprised at the terseness of her voice. She nodded firmly. Tears sprung up in his eyes, making his lashes flutter. "Wh-why? You know nothing of me. Why would you risk your family and your people for someone like me?"

"You think yourself so different from anyone else in this world?" She cupped his cheek again before pulling her chair closer to sit before him. She tugged her tea to her, pressing a knuckle to the side of the cup to test its warmth. It must have been to her liking, for she poured in some milk and started to stir it.

"There is no one else like me."

She smiled, setting the cup and saucer in one hand, reaching for a pastry from a small plate on the table with the other. "You don't know that for sure, my dear. And even if you are," she looked up at him, no longer smiling, a seriousness in her eyes that almost made him uncomfortable, "that's no excuse for what Laufey has put you through."

Loki sniffled and wiped at his eyes, but said nothing. He felt it. She wanted to know; they all probably wanted to know. And she was about to ask.

"When did it start?"

His eyelids drifted closed at the timid question. The conversation was inevitable; but that did not make it any easier. Steeling himself to answer her questions with as little unease as possible, he cleared his throat. "Do you know the myths of the old Jotün?"

She was quiet for a moment and he wondered if she was second-guessing asking the question. "No one really knows much about the race here. Those who do speak very little of what they know. But I have heard different stories here and there throughout my life. To which do you refer?"

"The stories of gender," he replied softly. She made a soft sound of agreement and he continued, "I was born with the ability to change my gender, therefore, am capable of everything both men and women experience…through childhood and adolescence." She made another noise, but he could not decipher what it meant. "The first came to me about a year or so after my first flowering." He forced down the surge of embarrassment, waited patiently for the heat that grew on his cheeks to subside.

"How often were they sent?"

Loki still would not meet Frigga's eyes and jerked a shoulder in answer. "Whenever he needed more…_things_, I suppose. I was not keeping count of the days that passed between. Sometimes it was months, sometimes not even a day, but mere hours."

"Of course you weren't keeping count," she rushed to say, as if scolding herself. Now he did look at her, his eyes narrowed slightly. "You were helpless; still a child and the victim of an awful man's misplaced anger." She jolted back when Loki shot to his feet.

"I did not ask for your pity," he growled out. He sighed softly and turned away again, moving toward the bed, resting his head against the bed post. "Nor did I ask for your help. All you've done is make things worse. When Laufey returns for me, and he _will_," he briefly glanced her way. "He will beat me worse than before. He may even kill me just to spite you."

He felt rather than saw Frigga rise and move to him. "Loki, believe me, had we known what was happening to you, we would have stopped it years ago." She chuckled with fondness. "Thor's impulsiveness turned out to be a bit of a blessing for you. It was he who wanted you brought here and away from Laufey."

Loki whipped around, his back resting against the post. "Does your king often make decisions based on the rash actions of your reckless and impetuous son?"

"Mind your tongue," she scolded firmly, and he flinched. "He may be reckless and impetuous, but he is still my son and the crowned prince of Asgard."

Loki lowered his eyes, dipping his head in apology. "I'm sorry…" he whispered.

"Let me be clear: _if_ Laufey comes for you, the soldiers of Asgard will protect you by order of the king. We have only the best of warriors standing as guards inside the palace and they will accompany you any time you set foot out of this room. He would have to fight many people to even reach you. But you can help yourself, Loki."

He sheepishly met her gaze for a moment. "How am I to do that? I am not a warrior."

Frigga smiled slowly. "You have powers, do you not?"

Loki scoffed lightly. "I am a witch."

"You are a _sorcerer_," she corrected, smiling wider when he met eyes again. "Harness your powers, Loki. Hone them and use them to protect yourself. You defended yourself quite well yesterday, from what I am told. And you did no harm to anyone, but to startle them a little. If you learn to control it and wield it with certainty, there is no telling what you could do."

Loki hesitated, fighting the odd feeling of hope rising inside him. Yes, he had often dreamt of being able to use these gifts for something more than making things disappear and braiding his hair in a matter of a few seconds. And ridding himself of the mess his would-be suitors left him with. Hope was a dangerous thing to give someone like him. He shook his head, both to shake away the thoughts and deny anything Frigga was saying. Suddenly feeling crowded, he slinked away from her, moving to the other side of the room. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but how would I learn any of that? There is no one to teach me."

"I could help you," she said lightly.

Frowning, Loki faced her again, and she lifted her shoulders coyly. "What do you know of magic?"

"Very little, but the palace houses one of the largest libraries in the world. I am sure I could find a book or two to help guide you."

"And…you would be willing to help me?"

Frigga nodded. "Yes, of course. We can fit time in between the other courses you will be taking. Consider it…an elective."

They both looked to the door at the brief knock and a guard stepped in holding a shiny gold spear in his hand. "Your Majesty, the king wishes to speak with you."

Frigga nodded. "Thank you. I will be on my way shortly." The guard bowed and stepped out again.

Loki watched it all, in complete awe. It was as if Frigga flipped a switch and suddenly every move was regal and with purpose. He wished he had that kind of gracefulness, instead of the awkward way he moved because of his skinny arms and legs. He straightened a little when she looked at him again.

"Dinner is at seven, but we will understand if you choose not to join us tonight." She moved to the table gathering the cups onto the tray.

"Please don't tell the king…?" She angled her head in question. "About my…body." He chuckled nervously. "The less people who know, the less likely I will be treated differently—I will be, in any case, but…I would like to keep _that_ between us."

Frigga straightened and nodded. "As you wish, Loki. I do hope the room is to your liking. It was the smallest one we had available. We thought it would be more comfortable for you, for now. But if you feel the need for more space, just let me know. We'll find another for you here in Thor's wing."

"Thor's wing…?"

"Hmm," she nodded. "He's always been very rambunctious and loud. So we moved him to his own wing a few years ago. His room is just a couple of doors down the hall, if you need anything."

Loki nodded. Unlikely he would be taking advantage of that offer. He blinked and flinched a little when Frigga laid a hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Please stop apologizing. I promise; you have nothing to fear anymore." He tensed as she moved in and placed a light kiss to his cheek. "If we do not see you for dinner, have a good night."

Surprised at the tenderness, and admittedly, uncomfortable with the affection, Loki only nodded stiffly and stayed still until he was alone again, after Frigga and the servant girl she sent in to collect the tea tray left him. He looked around the room, questioning what exactly he was supposed to do in all this space, his conversation with Frigga replaying in his mind as he wandered around. He ran his fingers over the furniture, marveling at its texture and sturdiness. There was so much of it, he wondered if he would ever own enough of anything to fill the drawers.

He walked back toward the changing room—a closet, she called it?—and passed through it to another door. He stared open-mouthed at the largest bathtub he had ever seen. _Hmm…_ The idea of soaking in a hot bath sounded much more inviting than dinner with the royal family of Asgard.

He twisted and toyed with the knobs, sticking his hand beneath the spigot, testing the water until it was at the temperature he desired. He let it start to fill, as it had a ways to go, and moved to the washbasin. He glanced up and froze, for staring back at him was a face he did not recognize. He lifted his fingers to the ornately-framed mirror and touched his reflection. Chuckling softly to himself, Loki watching his image and reached for the bottom of his braid and began to undo it. His hair was past his waist now and he toyed with the idea of shortening it. He would have to wait until he saw more of the people of Asgard and what the popular styles were here—if he was going to be staying for awhile.

He was unsure how to accept the royal family's kindness and generosity. No one had ever shown him any of that, ever, in his life. To be safe, he thought he would keep to himself for now, in his rooms. Was he hiding? Absolutely. But none of them knew what Laufey was capable of. None of them had been on the receiving end of his ire.

Loki stripped out of the green shirt and black pants Frigga had provided him with and carefully stepped into the tub, sinking slowly, inch by inch, sore muscle by sore muscle, into the steamy water. He sunk down into it, briefly dunking his head to wet his face, then sat up, the water reaching just to his chin and settled back, his black hair wafting around him.

He understood that Frigga wanted him to feel safe in Asgard. But the truth was that as long as Laufey was alive, and knew where Loki was, he would never be safe.

* * *

Thor's disappointment at Loki not joining them for dinner was evident. He sat through the meal with a soft scowl on his face and poked at his food with his fork. Unusual for the prince, as he usually barreled through two plates before Odin and Frigga had barely taken a few bites. Adding to his sour mood was the news that Odin had chosen the military academy where Thor would be sent. It was somewhere in Britain. It was not very far; but, it was still not Asgard. And he was to leave in a month.

He vaguely listened to Frigga and Odin's discussion of her time with Loki, advising them both to leave the Jotün prince to himself for the next few days, to allow him to acclimate himself to his new surroundings. She informed them of Loki's fears that Laufey would return for him eventually. But she remained mum on the specific reasons for Loki's concerns and Odin assumed aloud that it was just the unfamiliarity with Asgard and being away from the only home he knew.

Thor didn't stay for dessert—another break from routine—and instead wandered through the gardens surrounding the castle, going over in his head the ways to avoid having to leave the palace. But all of his ideas, he knew, would simply be dismissed by Odin. If Frigga hadn't been able to dissuade the king from his decision by now, there was no hope for Thor. He would leave in four weeks to live in a country he had not visited since he was young for two full years, so Odin told him.

The fact that he would not be there to help Loki become more comfortable in the castle, in Asgard, to show him the most beautiful sites of the realm—to protect him from Laufey, mostly—only angered him more. Unconsciously, or perhaps not so much, Thor came to a stop in the small patch of grass surrounding a tall oak tree just below the balcony of Loki's room. He glanced up at the closed balcony doors, saw the soft light of one candle, and wished desperately that Loki would sense his presence there and come out. Just so he could have one look.

Shaking his head at his foolishness, Thor continued on his walk until he reached an entrance to walk back into the castle. What was wrong with him? He had only met this young male for a moment, a brief one at that, and suddenly he could think of nothing else but his bright green eyes and flawless pale skin.

If he still had friends to speak to, and he told them of what he was feeling, they would call him silly, acting like a maiden in love, and tell him of all the beautiful young maidens begging to be by his side he would choose a young Jotün prince? No matter that prince could be a princess at his whim. It was absurd, he thought, taking a long path to his rooms, avoiding having to see or speak to anyone.

Still, the fact was he _couldn't_ stop thinking about Loki. It had to mean something. Didn't it? He paused at the door to his bedroom, looking down the way toward one of the smaller bedrooms that was now inhabited. He debated with himself whether he should go and say goodnight, make sure he was comfortable. But remembering Frigga's words, Thor decided not to bother Loki, and entered his own room instead. Again, he stripped himself of his regal attire, leaving it for someone else to clean up, and crawled into bed.

He dreamt; both pleasant and horrible dreams. He dreamt of walking with Loki through the gardens, plucking a bright red rose from one of the bushes in the Queen's private garden and tucking it in the plait of Loki's thick braid, just behind his ear. He dreamt that Laufey had returned, bringing an army of Jotün warriors that the powerful armies of Asgard couldn't seem to fight. He dreamt of death—his parents, his friends, his own. Loki's.

Thor woke in a panicked sweat, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, gasping for breath and clutching the damp sheets around him. He jumped out of the bed, moving as fast as his shaky legs would take him, to his balcony, throwing open the doors so fast one of them was knocked off its hinges. He swallowed down deep gulps of fresh air, and felt instant relief as the cool night air hit his fevered skin.

He stood there for a moment, slowing his breath, his racing heart, until the fear and panic finally subsided. He opened his eyes and stared out at the sight of the sleeping kingdom he would one day rule. Perhaps Odin's plans would work to his advantage, after all. Thor set his jaw determinedly, and with a sense of calm, he crawled into bed again, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

**2nd A/N: Questions? Comments? Likes? Dislikes? You know what to do! :)**


	6. Will You Miss Me?

"You must speak with your son," Odin grumbled to his wife as he entered their joint chambers and began to prepare himself for bed.

One of Frigga's perfectly shaped blonde brows rose over an amused blue eye. "Oh? Did you have a subject in mind? Or are you simply spouting commands at me now?"

The king heaved a weary sigh. "Something is bothering him, my love. He has been in a foul mood for weeks now. Slamming doors off their hinges, shouting and cursing at the servants in the palace; he nearly thrashed a servant boy to death in a sparring match today. And would have, had the other servants not thought to bring Volstagg in to pull him off."

Frigga smiled patiently, shaking her head, and returned her focus to her knitting. "His father is sending him to a military school hundreds of miles away from the only home he has ever known and separating him from all of his childhood friends. Yet still you wonder what may be bothering him? Men," she murmured to herself.

"Frigga…"

She glanced up at the concerned tone, lowering her needles, and tilting her head. "You believe this to be more than just him going away, don't you?"

Odin nodded solemnly. "There is something else bothering him. I sought him out tonight to ask why he chose not to join us for dinner."

"What was his answer?"

He grumbled again, exasperated. "He only shouted back at me that Loki does not join us at all, so why should he?"

Frigga pushed forward to the edge of her seat and laid a hand over Odin's weathered ones. "Are you sure he is not just upset that the date of his departure is nearing? He leaves the day after tomorrow. He is not happy about it, husband. I understand why you've chosen this path for him, but I think you've not explained it well enough for him. He is angry and frustrated and…sad."

"'Tis not that, love. I know not what it is, but…" He parted his hands, letting her tinier, more fragile one fall between them, holding it tenderly, lovingly, like it was a treasured jewel. "Perhaps you, in your oft gentle way, can persuade him to open up and calm his fears?"

Frigga chuckled softly, enjoying her husband's attempt to persuade her. "You are as transparent as the lakes of Asgard, husband." She stood, leaving her knitting aside, and trailed her fingers teasingly along Odin's graying beard. She smiled knowingly when he growled lowly.

"Then you will speak to him?" he asked, rising and following her toward their shared bed in the next room.

"Hmm…perhaps." She taunted, taking painstakingly slow movements to untie the knot of her robe. "I am not sure you have convinced me just yet." She smiled wider, almost laughing out loud, when she felt Odin's large hands slide over her hips and pull the robe apart.

"I have to convince you to speak to your own son?" he questioned against her ear, before nuzzling her soft neck. "That's not very honorable of you, my queen."

She giggled softly. "No, I will speak to Thor. You've yet to convince me to do it for _you_." She leaned back to glance up at him, letting her eyes slide closed as he pressed his lips to hers. Slowly, he rotated her body so she was facing him and pulled her close.

"My queen is in need of assurance? I believe I can fix that." Odin wrapped his arms tightly around Frigga's waist and lifted her from the floor. As he fell with her to the bed, her leg lifted, knocking the bedside lamp off its nightstand. And the room filled with darkness and laughter.

* * *

The next day, Frigga went about her regular morning duties: dressing, breakfast in the parlor with Odin, and after he left to take care of his daily kingly duties, she received a short weekly briefing of the goings-on around all the realms—births, deaths, marriages, and so on.

Around the middle of the afternoon, Frigga started on a walk around the castle, a handmaiden by her side. Frigga was double-checking that Thor was taking the right amount of clothes and reminded the maid that he was not to take his cape. They were speaking quietly to each other when a loud crash made them both skid to a halt.

Thor came barreling out of the throne room, red-faced and grumbling, Odin's voice echoing after him, and the maid started to turn to call for a guard. Frigga threw out her arm, holding her in place.

"No," she whispered. "It's all right." She watched Thor storm down the hall for a moment. "Go to the kitchens, fetch some tea."

"But, Your Majesty…" A look from Frigga silenced the maid quickly. "Yes, Your Majesty." She dipped hastily into a curtsy and fled as fast as she could.

Frigga continued to watch Thor, breathing a little easier when he shoved his way into one of the spare rooms. She turned, eyes searching for the guard the maid was looking for, and called him over, ordering him to send the maid into the room when she returned with the tea.

As quietly as she could, Frigga stepped to the door that, in his haste, Thor had once again knocked off its hinges. She frowned at it then looked to him. He stood near a window, leaning one arm above his head, against the wall beside the window, his stance rigid and tense. Faintly, Frigga could hear voices lifting from below the window, but couldn't decipher who was speaking or what they were saying. She stepped further into the room, trying to get a look at his face.

"Thor—"

"_Heuarghhh!_" He whipped around and Frigga yelped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Mother…?" he breathed out on a long breath.

She raised a hand. "Just me. I did not mean to give you a fright."

Thor's eyes moved about wildly before he took a deep breath and seemed to calm himself. "No. No, of course, you did not. I had not heard you walk in."

She smiled and stepped in a little further. "I have not seen you in many days, my son. How have you been?"

He sighed heavily and smiled weakly. "I am well."

"Are you?" She smiled again when he met her gaze. "I hear there is a need to replace some doors and other breakables in the palace." She slyly looked toward the broken door.

Thor bunched his lips together. "I-I am sorry, mother. I've been in a very...I have been very frustrated lately."

"Something I can help you with?" she asked hopefully.

He chuckled wryly. "Not likely." He tensed then relaxed again when the handmaid entered carrying the tea. Frigga noticed but did not speak of it.

"Thank you, Brynhildr. You may return to your regular duties." The young woman curtsied to her then again in Thor's direction before taking her leave. Frigga held out a hand toward the tray. "Tea?"

"Nnh, no, thank you." He looked toward the window again.

Frigga decided to let the tea cool and wandered toward Thor. Looking at him more closely now, she could see the dark circles under his eyes. "Thor, have you not been sleeping well?"

He looked startled at her again, his eyes wide. "Um...no—aye! I mean, I have not slept much, but I am sleeping fine."

She moved toward the window, surprised when Thor tried to block her way. A stern look, a cocked brow, and he reluctantly stepped away. She went up to the window and looking out, she saw Loki below with an instructor, getting a lesson in the names of plants in one of the many gardens. She frowned a little in confusion and grinned up at her son. "Are you enjoying the view?"

Thor blushed deep red. "I was only...taking a break from my meeting with Father," he tried to explain hastily. Frigga eyed him closely as he moved back to the window sill and looked out again with his striking blue eyes.

She looked down at Loki again, for a moment, struck by his beauty in the sunlight; the bright light making his hair shine like the black polish of a soldier's boot. The mother in her worried about his pale skin being exposed to the sun, but adjusting to the warmer weather on Asgard, and the styles he had seen, Loki took to wearing long-sleeved tunics and form-fitting trousers. "He is stunning, is he not?"

"Yes…"

Frigga's eyes flicked up to her son's face at the quiet one-word answer. There was an emotion there she couldn't quite decipher. She watched as her son's blond brows came together, furrowing deeply over his usually bright blue eyes. "…Thor?" It took him a beat to respond, a slight twitch of his brows, and a hummed question. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Thor sighed and moved away from the window. "I know not how to explain it, Mother." She moved closer, tilting her head inquisitively, waiting patiently, knowing words weren't Thor's strong suit. "I have felt very…confused as of late. I know not how to describe it." He groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Have you…experienced anything like this before?"

She saw by the way he frowned he was thinking on it. "N-no. I cannot name these feelings, because I know I have never felt them before."

She took a small breath and calmly folded her hands before her. "Tell me about them."

Thor sighed almost in frustration, pacing away from the window, his fingers clenching at his sides. "Mother, you know well my domain is not in emotions. Nor do I even know where to begin to try to explain."

She smiled sympathetically. "Are you still upset about leaving?"

"No," he answered quickly. "I mean, aye—I mean, I am—I don't…" He paused to collect himself. "I am going to miss Asgard. But…I have accepted my fate."

Frigga was at a loss. She had assumed Thor's behavior was entirely the cause of his unhappiness with leaving. If he had made peace with leaving, where were the moods coming from? To give herself a moment of thought, Frigga moved to the tea tray and set about making herself a cup. "Sit and talk with me for a moment."

"Oh. But, Father..." he started, pointing toward the hall. She waved him off.

"He will understand. Sit." She motioned him to a chair and lifted the teapot from the tray. Thor sat quietly, watching as Frigga finished making herself a cup. "Is there anything I can do to help, Thor?"

"No, Mother," he murmured. "I appreciate your concern. But…if I know not what is ailing me, I cannot know how to fix it."

She smiled, reached out to cup his bearded cheek. "You sound wiser already." He chuckled, his lips curving more than she had seen in some time. Feeling a little better, a little more at ease for him, she sat across from the still growing boy at the square table. "What were you and your father discussing?"

Thor's frown returned. "I tried to convince him to let me stay."

"But I thought you were—"

"I am," he restated, more avidly, sitting up and placing his large hand over hers on the table. "I only asked to stay a little longer. Until we knew for sure that Laufey would not return."

Her head angled to the side. "You agree with Loki that he will return for him?"

He sat back, gave a slight shake of his head. "I believe Laufey is unpredictable and capable of anything. But...I've not discussed it with Loki."

Frigga smiled, fondly now, and sipped at her tea. "He's not one for a lot of discussion, though, is he? But when he does speak, it's somehow always…profound. Worth the wait, even." She smiled at him again. "Don't you think?"

Thor stared at her blankly before his eyes wandered briefly toward the window, slowly traveling back to her. "I would not know. I've not spoken to him, Mother. At all…"

"What? You've not spoken to him at all? Why ever not?"

"Mm…" He looked away again, almost shyly, and Frigga's brows drew together. "I gathered he preferred his solitude. I didn't want to impose."

"Oh, Thor!" she exclaimed, sitting up and setting her cup down on the table. He jerked a tad in his chair at the exclamation. "I had so hoped you two would become friends before you left us."

"_Thor! Get back in here!"_

They both looked to the hallway at Odin's bellow. "I should go to him. I do not want to leave here angry with him." Frigga nodded in agreement, remaining in her seat as he stood and moved forward to press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Thor," she rose from the chair, catching him just as he reached the door. "Make sure you try to say goodbye to Loki tonight. I would hate for you to leave as strangers."

"I will try," he said with a small smile. He turned on his heel, the smile vanishing from his face, replaced with the same look of frustration he had been wearing for four weeks.

* * *

Thor had hoped Loki would join them for dinner that night, if only because it was his last night at home. And it would take the pressure off of him having to try to talk to him later. Pressure he had been feeling since the Jotün had started sleeping two doors away from his own room. But Loki remained hidden away in his rooms for another night.

It was true Thor had not spoken to Loki in the time he had been living at the palace. But it wasn't for a lack of trying.

Thor tried to catch him on his outings with his tutors and to "accidentally" bump into him in the hallways of his wing—_their_ wing—but Loki was quick and always managed to get away before Thor could even say hello. There were times he wondered if Loki was using his magic to keep himself from interacting with Thor. How that worked, he didn't know, but it didn't seem impossible.

It pained him to have to only admire the attractive prince from afar. He hadn't heard that sweet voice in a month. One conversation was all he needed, to carry him for the next year, but he had resigned himself to accept it would never happen.

After dinner, Thor returned to his room, with Frigga in tow, and finished packing the rest of his things. It was late by the time they had finished and Frigga was ready to say goodnight. Thor spent an uncomfortable few minutes letting his mother cry on his shoulder, sobbing about having to watch her baby boy leave home in the morning. Finally, the king pried his queen away from Thor's arms, and walked her back to her rooms, Frigga sniffling all the way.

Tense and restless, Thor bathed for the second time that day, hoping the hot bath would relax him enough to help him sleep. He wrapped a towel securely around his narrow hips, and towel-dried his hair with another as he wandered onto his bedroom's balcony. He looked out at the quiet Asgardian night, taking in the way the few visible stars in the midnight blue sky glittered between the thin clouds dimming the moon's light; the scent of the plants and flowers surrounding his area of the castle; and letting his eyes drift closed, he listened to the sounds of the summer insects talking to each other through their unique song. He was memorizing his home, storing away the memory of his favorite place in the world, his haven.

A soft bump sounded and Thor's eyes slowly opened. He looked to his side and saw the curtains of Loki's balcony billowing in the warm breeze; a soft orange light flicked on in a small window. He heard another noise, something like a drawer being closed, and was suddenly struck with an idea.

Moving quickly, Thor went back into his room and pulled on a pair of loose black pants and a muslin undershirt then slipped his boots onto his feet. Going back out to his balcony, Thor paused to gauge the distance between his balcony and Loki's. He wouldn't be able to jump it from his balcony, but thankfully, the large tree outside Loki's would make it a little easier to make the leap across.

With quiet, easy movements, Thor swung his legs over the rail of his balcony, and lithely jumped to the ground. He smirked to himself for landing so efficiently, even without the use of Mjölnir. He tried his best not to trample any flowers, though his thick-soled boots made that tricky, and reached the oak tree in Loki's garden. He dipped his head back, looking up the length of the tall tree, and chuckled softly. He had lost count of the times he had climbed this and other trees around the palace; this time would be no less difficult.

A few minutes later, and Thor was readying himself to leap from branch to balcony. He gulped in a deep breath of air and pushed off the branch, his arms outstretched for the rail. He groaned out, his arms flailing for something, anything to grab onto, as he had bounced off of something hard and painful—and obviously invisible. His fingers were able to latch, just barely, to one of the balusters, and he dangled dangerously above the hard ground for a moment.

"What are you doing?"

"Bah!" Thor screeched at the sound of Loki's voice and swung his hanging arm up to grab another of the balusters. Groaning loudly, he pulled himself up until he could throw an arm over the rail, then a leg and eventually he managed to roll himself until he was sitting on the floor of the balcony, his back against the balusters. He panted for a moment, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. He saw some movement above him and flicked his gaze up, but all he could see was a dark figure in the shadows of the area blending balcony and bedroom.

"Are you spying on me?" Loki asked.

"No," Thor eked out on a cracking breath. "Do you have some water?"

"You can have water when you tell me why you were crawling all over my balcony like a wormy little spy."

"I was—" Thor broke off to cough into his hand and inhaled deeply, nearly gasping for breath. When he finally managed to start breathing easier, he looked up at Loki's shadow again. "I was not spying."

Loki didn't seem convinced. "Is this a nightly habit of yours?"

"No, of course not!" Thor grumbled. Muttering under his breath to himself, Thor clambered to his feet, busying himself with brushing dirt off of his pants. "I have not climbed this balcony…since you've been here. I am not spying, I am just…curious."

"Of what?"

Thor felt his cheeks burn and he shuffled his feet. "You."

Hidden by shadows up to this point, Loki emerged, waving a hand in the air. Thor was about to question him, but he realized the Jotün had just used his magic to clear the clouds from the moon. The Asgardian prince went breathless as Loki was suddenly bathed in the pale moonlight. He stood just outside his room, a long, dark green tunic covering him from throat to ankle. Thor's lips curved as he watched Loki's raven hair fly freely in the breeze.

"Are you satisfied?"

Thor nodded numbly. "What knocked me back?"

Loki lifted his chin minutely. "Magic. I put a protective barrier, a wall of magic, if you will, around all entrances to my chambers." The side of his mouth dipped a little, in dissatisfaction. "It won't keep Laufey out, but at least I will know he's coming."

"Oh," was all Thor said. They stared at each other for a moment before Loki tentatively dipped his head to the side and started to turn away. "…Wait."

Loki paused, glancing at Thor sideways. "For what?"

Thor had a slight moment of panic. It was the moment he had been waiting for and he was drawing a total blank. He hadn't planned out well what, if anything, he would discuss with the Jotün when he finally got an audience with him.

Loki frowned and turned to face him again, angling his head to the side, as if studying Thor. "Was the question too difficult for you?"

Thor snapped to attention and chuckled anxiously. "Have you been to the shore yet?"

Loki straightened, surprise washing across his face. "Mnh…no…"

Thor smiled and meekly motioned Loki to come closer. Cautiously, Loki took one short step. Thor held his arm out to him, invitingly, and turned to face the view of the balcony. "When you go, go to the southernmost tip of the island." He pointed out in that direction as Loki came up to his side, but it was too dark to see that distance. "The waves swell to their fullest there. And it is a beautiful sight. In the fall, after the harvest, have Mother take you into town for the fair. Old Lady Lundgren does the most amazing things with a slab of venison. And make sure you try the mead."

"Why are you telling me this?" Loki's interruption was quiet, but enough to get Thor to stop chattering.

He looked down at Loki, struck again for a moment, by his pale face, stunning in the silvery light. "Because I will not be here to tell you when the time comes."

"Oh…" Loki lowered his eyes and looked back out, his emerald eyes roaming across the span of Asgard. "Thank you," he murmured, barely audible. Thor smiled softly, though Loki didn't look at him.

They stood there together on the balcony for a moment, the insects and the wind through the leaves the only sound between them. Thor bit the inside of his cheek, clenched his fingers and spread them out against his thighs alternately, trying to think of some way to break the tense quiet between them. But Loki beat him to it.

"You should go," he said softly, just barely lifting his green eyes to Thor's. "You need your rest for your long journey tomorrow."

Knowing he was right, and unable to think of a good enough excuse to linger, Thor nodded, and moved to swing a leg over the balcony rail.

"Good night," Loki said before Thor was halfway over. Thor's lips parted to return the farewell, when Loki spun around and started back toward his room.

"Will you miss me?" Thor blurted out, straddling the balcony's edge.

Loki came to a halt and sent him a curious look over his shoulder. "No. I don't know you well enough, Asgardian."

Thor's small smile faded. "You may call me Thor…" he mumbled.

Loki fully faced him now. "Will _you_ miss _me…_Thor?"

He smirked, seeing the tiniest semblance of a grin curving Loki's pale red lips. "You've given me no reason to," he answered promptly. He went still, his heart thudding heavily in his chest, as Loki slowly approached him.

A pale, long-fingered hand appeared from under a long sleeve and reached up to lightly cup Thor's chin, tilting his head down. Thor's lips parted, his blue eyes went wide for a moment as Loki moved in, closer and closer, until his soft, red lips were on his.

Only a second or two passed before Thor's eyelids fluttered closed. This was far from Thor's first kiss, but it was the first he had not initiated. Though he had wished for it, somewhere in the back of his mind, he hadn't really expected to leave Asgard with the sweet taste of Jotün on his lips.

Then his hormones kicked in, ignited by Loki's fingers brushing feather-light against his jaw. Thor inhaled sharply through his nose and slipped his hands into Loki's hair, clenching his fingers in the silky, thickness of it, and dipped the slender, near weightless body back, across his lap, and pressed his mouth more firmly to Loki's. He licked at the seam of Loki's lips, asking for entry, and nibbled, but they didn't part for him. He felt Loki's soft hands on his face again; gentle, soft, caressing. Whining gruffly, lowly, Thor reluctantly lifted his mouth.

"I believe you may miss me now, Asgardian," Loki whispered huskily. Thor's eyes were glued to his lips, brighter red and swollen from his own mouth. Something like embarrassment, made his face feel hot, and forced him push Loki upright on his feet again and pull his arms from him.

"Aye," he agreed, his voice even deeper than normal, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Loki. "I think I may." He remained still, waiting until he heard the quite rustling of Loki's clothes as he started back toward his room. "Loki...?"

"Yes?"

Thor swallowed before raising his eyes. "May I write to you...while I am away?" Loki looked at him strangely, as if confused.

"If you wish," he murmured.

Thor's lips parted to bid him good-bye again, but before he could take a breath, Loki vanished.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for that update** **taking longer than expected. That kiss wasn't coming out great... It's better, but I'm still not completely happy with it. C'est la vie.**

**So the bad news is Thor's leaving Loki. The good news is we're leaving Asgard and will meet new people. :)**

**Thanks for keeping up with me, lovelies.**

**XOXO, LaLa**


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